Fooling Around
by Chezza
Summary: Just another day at the SGC... SJ UST
1. Intro, Please Read

**Title:** Fooling Around

**Author: **Chezza

**E-mail:** cyberchezza at tiscali . co . uk

**Status: **Complete

**Sequel/Series:** Sequel to 'April Fools' but it's not necessary to have read that for this to make sense.

**Summary:** Just another day at the SGC…

**Season:** Any except six, cos there's no Jonas. Hugs Jonas

**Spoilers:** Only for my previous fic

**Category:** Humour/Fluff

**Characters:** Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c, General Hammond, Janet Frasier.

**Pairing:** S/J UST. If that's not your cup of tea, skip Chapters 7 and 8, and accept that in Chapter 10, Jack and Sam are walking out of the locker room together, okay? I promise faithfully that nothing regulation-breaking went on in there. Honest. ;)

**Rating: **PG13

**Warnings:** Language/Character embarrassment

**Archive:** Chezza's Gate, Helio, , Gateworld, SJD, jackfic… Anyone else, please ask.

**Disclaimer:** Stargate's not mine as I'm sure you all know,

nor do it's characters belong to me.

This kind of writing earns me no dough,

so you get to read my fic for free!

**Authors Notes:** It's been exactly one year since I sat down and wrote my very first piece of fanfic. I started it at the end of March and finally plucked up the courage to put it 'out there' at the end of May. The story was 'April Fools' and this one is it's sequel, because I thought it might be nice to mark the event.

As always, thanks go to dragonlady for the beta. Flames will be used to light Teal'c's candles (not like that! Get your mind outta the gutter, f'cryin' out loud!) whilst constructive feedback and criticism on the other hand, is always gratefully received and appreciated. Enjoy folks!

Dedication: This fic is for all the new friends I've made over the past year through my writing, everyone who has supported my writing - even through my current dry period - everyone who has ever sent me even a single piece of feedback and everyone who nominated my fics in this year's SG-1 Fan Awards. To say I was shocked and stunned to receive them, doesn't even begin to cover it! Thank you all.

**© Chezza, 2003**

_**o0o**_


	2. SGC Briefing Room, 0635 Hours

**SGC Briefing Room, 0635 Hours**

Colonel Jack O'Neill poked his head carefully round the entrance to the briefing room. Hammond was on the red phone in his office and the place appeared to be empty. He frowned thoughtfully before speaking in a hushed whisper.

"Psst! Hey, Carter! You in here?"

A blonde head popped up from underneath the large inlaid table. "Sir! Hey!"

Sam Carter scrambled out from underneath the table as she greeted her CO. He wandered round the table to give her a hand up, earning himself a quick grin as he hauled her up off the floor.

"Thanks, sir."

Jack shrugged, stuffing his hands back in his pockets. "No problemo. Sooo - " he drew the word out, causing her to look up from dusting herself down. "All sorted?"

Sam smirked, knowing precisely what he was referring to, and held up her hand. In it was a small rectangular black box.

"Yessir."

"Eex-cellent." The hands came out of the pockets again, as he rubbed his hands together.

"How's ya doohickey work, Carter?"

Sam launched into an abbreviated explanation. "Since we don't know where he's going to sit, there's a box under each of these chairs – " she gestured round the room, " – with a transmitter.

"They're motion activated, so they go off whenever a person sits down or gets up, but they can be overridden by the remote control here." She gestured to the control box in her hand.

Jack frowned again. In puzzlement this time. "Uh-huh. So…how do they work?"

Sam bit back a sigh. Knowing he did it deliberately, did not make it any less annoying. "You press the button in the middle, sir."

"Ah!" He plucked the box out of her hand and proceeded to inspect it carefully, turning it over and over between his fingers.

Sam cringed, the temptation to tell him to please be careful almost overwhelming. She'd spent at lot of time setting this up and making sure it worked. She was not going to let the past few weeks effort go to waste, just because he was incapable of keeping his hands still!

She narrowed her eyes as he poked the little box with his index finger. If he spoiled her fun with his endless need to fiddle, he'd be the one on the receiving end of payback next year. Admittedly she had made a spare just in case, knowing only too well what a big kid he could be, but still…it was the principle of the thing.

"Hey Carter, what's this button do?"

Sigh.

Second childhood. No doubt about it.

**_o0o_**


	3. SGC Briefing Room, 0740 Hours

**SGC Briefing Room, 0740 Hours**

Teal'c stared levelly at the bald-headed man at the head of the table.

"General Hammond, I assure you that I am in perfect health."

"I dunno, T," Jack said thoughtfully, his eyes dancing with mirth. "I reckon you need to get that checked out."

There was a strangled snort from the side of him, as Sam struggled to keep a straight face. At the other end of the table, Daniel was slowly turning purple from his efforts not to break out into hysterical laughter.

Teal'c turned his head to look straight at his CO. His eyes narrowed slightly as he glared at the man he believed to be the perpetrator of this…joke. Jack sobered his expression, the laughter draining from his eyes like water, as he stared impassively back. A battle of wills ensued.

The deadlock was broken by General Hammond clearing his throat. Teal'c blinked slowly before giving him his full attention.

"All the same Teal'c, I believe it would be for the best if you report to Dr. Frasier before accompanying SG-1 on this mission."

Teal'c frowned, repressing the desire to sigh heavily at the stupidity of this situation, before reluctantly inclining his head and submitting to the request. General Hammond was his superior officer in these matters. He had sworn service to the Tau'ri, therefore he must accede to the demands of his leaders, however ridiculous they may seem at times.

He turned his head and gave his team leader a long cool look, promising him dire consequences in return for this humiliation. Then he stood gracefully and giving a polite bow of his head in acknowledgement, strode out of the room with his head held high. An effort to maintain as much dignity as possible.

**_o0o_**

Concurrent with Teal'c exiting stage left, there was a loud thump as Daniel's head hit the table. All attention in the room shifted from the doorway to focus on the team's resident archaeologist. His tousled mop of brown hair rocked back and forth, face buried in his arms and shoulders shaking. General Hammond looked on in concern.

"Are you alright, Doctor Jackson?"

Daniel gave a wheezing noise, before raising one hand off the table and flapping it weakly in the air.

"Fine." He choked. "'m fine…"

Hammond opened his mouth to enquire further, only to be interrupted by a high-pitched giggle. He turned his head back to stare at the other two members of SG-1 in astonishment, just in time to see Major Carter's head vanishing under the table. He blinked.

What in god's name was she doing?

Raising his head slightly, he was able to see over the edge of the opposite side of the table. She was bent almost double in her seat, her shoulders also shaking. He gave the man sat next to her a querying look, only to receive a _'ya got me'_, shrug of his shoulders in return. He obviously didn't understand the problem either. Or he was doing a good job of hiding it. He peered back down over the edge of the table again. The Major's head was rocking back and forth, an occasional muffled squeaking sound escaping. Hammond cleared his throat.

"Major Carter?" He queried.

No response.

"Major Carter!"

The Major shot upright in her seat, an involuntary giggle leaving her lips as she swiped at her eyes with one hand. Her face was bright red. She gave him a guilty look, as she placed a pen down on the table. "Sorry sir, I – uh, dropped my pen."

Jack snorted. _'You dropped your pen?'_

Sam turned her head to glare at him. _'Oh please, like you could think of anything better!'_

Down at the other end of the table Daniel burst into renewed sniggers. Hammond stared at Sam for a long moment, his intense gaze making her shift nervously in her seat when she noticed. Her eyes darted everywhere else around the room, but wouldn't hold his gaze. Daniel's laughter gradually degraded into hiccups.

Hammond moved his gaze down to stare at the papers on the table before him, tapping his pen lightly. He rapidly was starting to understand the reason behind the long-suffering expressions on the faces of Tessa and Kayla's school teachers. As he slowly shook his head, trying very hard to dispel the image of a high-school teacher disciplining unruly students, he heard faint whispering from the other side of the table.

"Now look what you've done!"

"What? It's not my fault! I didn't do anything!"

Hammond closed his eyes in weary resignation. God help him. They'd regressed into teenagers.

**_o0o_**

The beginnings of what felt like it would be a monster headache began making itself known as Hammond mentally counting to ten. Across the table, the hushed bickering continued unabated, only to be interrupted by the occasional loud hiccup. Deciding he really ought to take control of this situation and get them the hell out of his briefing room before this degenerated any further, he reluctantly opened his eyes.

The hushed whispers died away, as he glared across the table into the smirking countenance of the man he'd privately decided was the ringleader behind the practical jokes in recent years. For a fleeting moment, Hammond seriously considered locking him in the brig until the day was over. In fact he might lock up the whole damn lot of them, just to make absolutely sure.

The man's expression changed to a picture of innocence, as if aware of the direction his thoughts were taking and Hammond sighed inwardly. One briefing, he just had to make it through one briefing…then he could go hide out in his office for the rest of the day.

An evil thought occurred to him and he couldn't resist a small smirk of his own at the thought, causing a worried expression to flicker over the face of the man in front of him. Maybe he could find an excuse to be somewhere else – anywhere else – next year. Let him deal with April Fool's day at the SGC, for a change. That'd teach him. Hammond made a mental note to file the idea away for the future.

As for this year…Hammond's face brightened considerably as he realised that with any luck, none of them would be around for much more of it. He cleared his throat and turned a stern look on his 2IC.

"Colonel, I trust I can rely on your team to show nothing but the utmost professional behaviour whilst off-world?"

O'Neill visibly sobered, straightening up in his chair. Unfortunately his attempt to show true professionalism was somewhat ruined by the derisive snort, followed by a hiccup, from his colleague at the end of the table. The Colonel shot Daniel a filthy sideways look and cleared his throat in turn.

"Professional behaviour! Yessir, guarantee it!"

Hammond took a long hard look at the team in front of him. The Colonel with a deadpan expression, the red-faced Major who looked like she was about to burst from suppressed laughter and the highly qualified civilian. Who was currently waving his glasses around in one hand and swiping at tears of hysteria with the other, in an effort to stop his laughing jag. Not for the first time, he wondered how in the hell they'd managed to save the entire planet on more occasions than he could remember.

He opened his mouth to deliver a warning…then hesitated as Daniel launched into another round of sniggering. And hiccups. Hammond promptly decided he really didn't have the energy to deal with this and waved a weak hand in dismissal.

""Very well, you have a go. Dismissed."

He watched in bemusement as the remaining members of SG-1 leapt out of their chairs and virtually hurled themselves out of the briefing room, in an effort to leave as quickly as possible. Moments later, echoes of howling laughter could be heard from the corridor outside the control room, followed by:

"Did you see the look of disgust on his face?! I soo have to get me a copy of that off the security cameras - priceless!"

"Oh my god! I think I broke a rib…"

"Yeah…and what did I tell you about giggling, anyway?!"

**_o0o_**

Hammond shook his head wearily as he levered himself up out of his chair.

_**Pffft!**_

Hammond froze. The farting sound echoed loudly in the now silent room. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the SF on guard duty shaking with the effort of not laughing out loud. Hammond closed his eyes in frustration and mentally counted to ten, refusing to rise to the bait.

Opening his eyes again, he calmly gathered together his papers and shooting the unfortunate SF a severe glare, he stalked out of the room with as much dignity as he could muster.

Reaching his office, he grabbed the handle of the door and promptly let out a sound that remarkably resembled Sam Carter's earlier high-pitched girlie squeak. He yanked his hand back at the slimy sensation. Then cautiously looked around to see if anyone had noticed his less than dignified-General-like behaviour. It appeared no-one had, thank god. Or if they did, then they were doing a good job of ignoring it. Ah, the advantages of being a high-ranking officer. Everyone was too concerned about their careers to mention your occasional moments of stupidity. At least not to your face.

He looked down at his blue-slime covered hand and sighed. Ugh. He hated slime! It was just so…slimy. He shook his hand vigorously. No, a tissue was going to be needed. Whatever the hell it was, it clung well, he'd say that for it. He shuddered and waved his hand around again, in an effort to Get. It. Off. Him, without having to touch anymore of it than he absolutely had to. He caught the vague tang of mint as he flapped his hand back and forth. Hang on…mint? He brought his hand slightly closer to his face – didn't want to get to close to the stuff – and sniffed carefully. It smelled like…

Toothpaste! Oh for the love of god…

**_o0o_**


	4. SGC Infirmary, 0800 Hours

**SGC Infirmary, 0800 Hours**

"Well Teal'c, I can't find a thing wrong with you," Doctor Janet Frasier said, at the end of his examination.

Teal'c's eyebrows drew together in a dark look.

"I did not believe that you would, Doctor Frasier. Jaffa do not suffer from excessive flatulence."

Janet's lips twitched as she struggled not to laugh. She shot a quick look down at her hands as she removed her sterile gloves.

"If you ask me, Teal'c, I think you've been on the receiving end of one Colonel's O'Neill's little jokes."

Teal'c bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"It would appear that way."

"So…" Janet said carefully, pursing her lips. "What are you going to do?"

Visions of the security camera footage from last year popped into her head. The sight of Colonel O'Neill walking the length of the SGC - from his office to the SG team locker rooms - in order to pick up a spare pair of BDUs, wearing nothing but his t-shirt and a pair of cartoon boxers, was...memorable…to say the least.

The footage of him climbing out of his original set of BDU's whilst they were super-glued to the chair in his office, had never been made public. Thanks in part, to some judicious bribery on the Colonel's behalf. Unfortunately for him, but happily for the rest of the SGC, he'd overlooked extending said bribe to include the section of tape which showed the walk from his office to the locker room.

Teal'c gave her a grave look, a little smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

"Doctor Frasier, I require your assistance."

**_o0o_**


	5. SGC Gate Room, 0900 Hours

**SGC Gate Room 0900 Hours**

Jack O'Neill stood in the gate-room waiting impatiently for the gate to burst in the life and restrained the desire to surreptitiously rub his backside. Funny how the Doc had decided they were all due for a bunch of inoculations today. Suspicious how administering all of them seemed to require him dropping his pants. Why the hell couldn't she just stick him in the arm like a normal person? He gingerly shifted his weight from one leg to the other and winced.

_'Ow.'_

If he'd known about this earlier, he'd have left it to the last possible second before heading up for his pre-mission exam. Maybe next year he'd hide all her needles. Let her try and jab him in the ass then… He looked over at the rest of his team. Daniel and Carter were looking just as uncomfortable as him and Teal'c – well, he looked as stoic as always. Of course he'd been and gone by the time they'd sobered up enough to show their faces in the infirmary.

He narrowed his eyes in thought. Maybe Teal'c and the Doc were working together. Yeah, wouldn't surprise him…she was still bitter about the mysteriously disappearing pen-light incident, two years ago. He shifted his weight back again and cringed. One thing was for sure, there wouldn't be many sit-down rest breaks on this trip.

"Chevron seven locked!"

Davis' voice intruded on his thoughts and he looked up in time to see the gate engage. The wormhole formed with it's obligatory kawoosh! Spilling out into the middle of the room in a turbulent swirl of blue and white, before snapping back to shimmer sedately in the centre of the gate.

Jack grinned. That never got old. He looked up at the control room, awaiting the word before heading through. The intercom clicked on, there was a moment's hesitation, then his CO's voice echoed throughout the gate-room.

"SG-1 you have a go."

Jack waved a lazy salute in acknowledgement and stepped onto the ramp.

"Let's go, campers!"

Back in the control room, General Hammond watched them vanish through the wormhole with a small amount of trepidation. He'd been in two minds as to whether or not he should let them go. The thought that the base was probably safer with them several million miles away right now, had clinched it. Jack was an accomplished team leader. He wouldn't let any high-jinks endanger the mission. Hammond was confident. Absolutely. Besides, how much trouble could they possibly find on a deserted planet?

**_o0o_**


	6. P5R 873, 1140 Hours

**P5R 873, 1140 Hours**

"Take five, kids."

They'd been walking for a good couple of hours now and were in need of rest, even if no-one felt the inclination to sit. Jack took a look around and judged this place as good as any to stop for a while. Large clearing, rocky outcrop at the back, trees on one side, scrub-land on the other. Yeah, it was as defensible as anything they'd found so far.

He stepped to one side in the clearing, his boots gaining a spattering of tiny pebbles and yet more dust, as Daniel's pack hit the dirt at his feet with a thud.

"Hey!"

Daniel gave him a sheepish look. "Sorry, Jack."

Jack just shook his head. Hurrah for steel toe caps… He wandered over to the rocks and looked down. Below was a large plain, stretching away to the horizon with…absolutely nothing…as far as the eye could see. Yep, trees, rocks and scrub-land. Standard dull alien planet. If there'd ever been anything more here, he'd eat his cap.

He sensed a presence at his side as his Jaffa team-mate strode over to join him.

"Do you not wish to partake of this chance to rest your feet, O'Neill?"

Jack glared at him. Oh yeah, he was soo in on the Doc's little 'joke'.

"No thanks, T. I'd rather stand."

A loud sniggering sound issued forth from behind his back.

"Daniel, if you make yourself hiccup again, I'm gonna drown you with your own water bottle."

The sniggering stopped and Jack restrained a grin. Playing 'bait the archaeologist' was a great way to pass the time on dull missions.

Teal'c tensed and focused his attention on the plain laid out in front of them. Jack immediately went on alert.

"What'cha got, T?"

"Movement, O'Neill."

Jack scanned his gaze across the plain. He could see…absolutely nothing. Zip. Nada. Not a thing.

"You sure?"

It sounded sceptical, but he couldn't help it. Granted, the big Jaffa's eyesight was waay better than his own, but he oughta be able to see something.

"I am."

Teal'c sounded confident. Jack squinted carefully, holding his hand over the brim of his cap, helping to shade his eyes from the sun. Nope, no movement. In fact no signs of life whatsoever.

But Teal'c was never usually wrong…

"Where?"

"In the distance, towards the hills."

The glare of the sun kicked back off the plain, making Jack glad he was wearing his shades. Could be heat haze, he supposed…but this was Teal'c they were talking about here. He'd never make that mistake.

His brain absently registered two sets of footsteps behind him and automatically identified the person who stepped up to the side of him as Carter, with Daniel slightly behind her. He kept his concentration on the scene in front of him. Still trying to see something. Anything.

"Sir?"

"Teal'c thinks he sees something."

"Really? Where?"

That was Daniel.

Sigh. If he knew that, he wouldn't be looking, now would he?

"Over there." Jack waved a hand vaguely in the direction Teal'c had pointed.

Sam frowned, holding her hand over her eyes and squinting in almost a carbon copy of his own actions, Daniel following her actions.

"I don't see anything."

"Me neither."

Not just him, then…

Jack removed his shades and pulled his small pair of field binoculars from his vest pocket, the ripping of Velcro sounding loud in the stillness. If in doubt, check with something more reliable than your own eyesight.

Bringing the binoculars to his eyes, he swept them in a large arc over the horizon, fiddling with the sight adjuster to bring it into sharp focus. He scanned carefully. Rocks. Small bushes. Heat haze. His sharp gaze caught a flicker of movement and he backtracked. Well whadd'ya know, there was life on this miserable dust-ball of a planet after all!

He watched for a moment. Aww, some small kinda furry critter…looked sorta like a rabbit -woah! He jumped as it pounced on a lizard-like thing he hadn't noticed before, baring a set of teeth that looked far too big for such a small animal. Okay, so not a rabbit after all…

"O'Neill?" Teal'c's query rumbled in his ear and he forcibly shook thoughts of being attacked by man-eating rabbits from his head. Moving on, he scanned the rest of the horizon carefully but couldn't find anything larger. Moving or not.

"I hate to break it to you T, but there's nuthin' out there."

Other than your not-so-typical garden-variety rodent. And there was no way he was venturing out to take a look-see. No way he wanted one of them biting his ankles! Damn thing'd take his foot off.

_'Hope they don't hunt in packs.'_

He could see the cause of death on the mission report now: Mauled by killer rabbits. What a way to go. He was never gonna look at Cassie's 'Fluffy' in the same light again…

But Teal'c believed he'd seen something. Jack shivered. Maybe they had cousins. Big, huge, carnivorous rabbits with honkin' great teeth…he resisted the urge to peer nervously into the trees around them. He wasn't worried. Nope, not in the slightest. Maybe they should just head back. After all, Carter had her samples and there was obviously else nothing here.

"Perhaps I was mistaken, O'Neill."

Jack slowly turned to stare at Teal'c in amazement, as his words broke through his musings and finally registered in his brain.

"You think you were mistaken?"

Teal'c was never mistaken.

"Indeed."

Huh. Guess those roving packs of vicious rabbits were unlikely then…

Teal'c met his gaze calmly. Jack narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Teal'c's lips twitched slightly. Jack's eyes narrowed further. Was that an almost-smirk? He had the uneasy feeling he'd just been got. Somehow. He wasn't how, but…somehow. He ripped open the Velcro fastener to his vest pocket and replaced his binoculars. Then turned back to Carter and Daniel.

"Okay, Teal'c says he was mistaken, so we'll just…"

His voice trailed off as Sam struggled to keep a straight face and Daniel turned away choking.

_'Ah, crap.'_

There were times he hated being right.

"What?!"

Sam tried vainly to suppress her laughter long enough to answer him, waving a finger at his face.

"Ah, sir…you…ah…um…"

"Carter…" He warned dangerously, narrowing his eyes to see if it would work on her.

She bit her lip, but couldn't hold back the giggle that escaped. Jack gritted his teeth, trying not to growl out loud.

"Uh, Jack…"

He turned slightly to glare at the widely grinning man who'd showed remarkable restraint by remaining mostly quiet through most of this.

"Yeah?"

Daniel silently handed him a rubber-backed mirror, smirking all the while. Jack frowned before taking it from him. He wasn't even gonna ask what Daniel was doing carrying a mirror around. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. Odds were he'd launch into some deep and meaningful archaeological reason as to why he needed one. Jack looked down at his reflection.

"Oh, f'cryin' out loud!"

**_o0o_**


	7. SGC Gateroom, 1410 Hours

**SGC Gate-room, 1410 Hours**

Hammond breathed a sigh of relief as the Gate activated only ten minutes later than SG-1's scheduled return time. For a moment there, he'd been concerned. As much as he'd welcomed the peace and quiet of the past few hours, he did not wish them ill. They attracted trouble like lightening to a rod and he couldn't help but worry whenever they didn't return on time. For all their quirks and oddities they were a good team. The best. And he had no desire to lose a single one of them. However much of a pain in the ass they could be at times.

"Receiving IDC, sir. It's SG-1."

Hammond nodded. "Open the iris."

With that he made his way down into the gate-room. By the time he'd reached the floor in front of the Gate, SG-1 were strolling down the ramp. O'Neill was in the lead pulling off his cap - his sunglasses would be next – then Major Carter and Doctor Jackson chatting amiably, with a silent Teal'c bringing up the rear. Nothing looked out of place.

"Welcome back, Colonel." Hammond acknowledged their return.

"Thank you, sir." O'Neill said, tucking his cap back inside his vest but making no move to remove his sunglasses.

"I take it the mission went well?"

"Oh, you know how it is, General – " O'Neill airily waved a hand in the air. "We went, we wandered around, picked up a few souvenirs, we came home. Same old, same old."

Hammond nodded, frowning slightly. He was still wearing his sunglasses. That was odd. He would normally have removed them before now, it was only common courtesy after all. It was difficult to get a feel for how the man truly felt the mission had gone, without being able to see his eyes.

"Debriefing at 1700 hours, people. In the meantime, get yourselves down to the Infirmary for your post-mission check, then you can."

"Aye, mon General."

Hammond frowned as the Colonel walked past him. He still hadn't removed his sunglasses. And he certainly didn't require them 28 floors underground.

"Ah, Colonel?"

The man froze in place, his back still to his CO. He cleared his throat. "Yessir!"

"Is there a reason why you feel it necessary to wear your sunglasses indoors?"

O'Neill gave a heavy sigh. "Ah…no, nope…not really."

Hammond tensed as he recognised the snorting sound of suppressed laughter. He glanced behind him at the remaining members of SG-1. Teal'c looked as impassive as always. Major Carter and Doctor Jackson on the other hand were sporting identical smirks. Hmm…

"Perhaps you could remove them then, Colonel?"

More snorting from behind him. Quickly converted to coughing as O'Neill spun round on his heel to face him. Oh, this was going to be good. He could tell.

Another sigh. Resigned almost. "Yes sir."

Jack pulled off his shades, letting them dangle on the cord round his neck. Hammond's lips twitched. Around each of the Colonel's eyes was a perfect black circle.

Jack cleared his throat again. "If that's everything, sir, I don't know about anyone else but I'd kinda like to go get cleaned up. Those dust-ball planets leave me dying for the shower…"

Hammond smirked. The man was doing his best to pretend there was nothing wrong and to be fair, he was doing a damn good job of it. But he couldn't just let this one go. Moments like this were priceless and sadly too far and inbetween.

"Granted, Colonel. In fact I'll make it an order."

Jack grimaced. He did not look happy. Which considering how long he'd had to live with boxer or brief jokes after last year's little incident was hardly surprising.

_'What goes around, comes around, Jack.'_

Though he doubted the man would appreciate that particular clichéd sentiment at this moment in time. If ever.

"Thank you, sir. I think."

Jack strode out of the room, the other members of his team nodding politely to Hammond as they followed him out, grins lighting up nearly all of their faces.

Hammond chuckled softly as he made his way back to the control room, shaking his head. Maybe there was some justice in this crazy universe after all…

**_o0o_**


	8. Locker Room, 1600 Hours

**Locker Room, 1600 Hours**

Sam opened the locker room door, towel in hand. She had an hour before the briefing. The men had got the showers first, thanks to the Colonel and his incessant whining that he needed to get this gunk off his face, right now. She sighed. He was such a pain sometimes. He knew how she hated those sort of planets, but she supposed she could see his point. If it had been her, she would want to get rid of it ASAP, as well. She grinned, it was funny though…watching him walk around looking like a make-up experiment gone wrong.

Besides, she still had just enough time to wash off the dust that caked her hair, her hands, her face, in fact everywhere that hadn't been covered by her BDU's and a few places that had, then grab a coffee and a bite to eat from the commissary before the briefing. Always providing she could get showered and out quickly. Her stomach rumbled. That settled it. Quick shower it was, then food. Something decidedly unhealthy sounded good right about then. Jell-O would be good…the sugar rush plus caffeine would get her through the briefing, no problem.

She looked up as she entered the room, jumping when she spotted a figure in the middle of the room with their back to her. She recognised that ass. Back. She meant back…

"Sir?"

Wasn't this supposed to be the women's locker room now? She could've sworn the sign outside had been swapped over.

He spun round. "Carter!"

His eyes ran over her and widened on seeing the towel she was carrying. "Ah geez…sorry, I didn't realise it was this late. I'll…uh…just give me a sec and I'll be out of your way."

"That's okay, sir." She said quickly, trying to hide her smirk. It wasn't often she got see her CO flustered. "No rush."

Her smirk grew to unhideable proportions when she realised he still had two perfect circles around his eyes.

He scowled. "It's not funny, Carter."

"Sorry, sir." She replied automatically, looking away to hide the growing grin which gave the lie to her words.

He shot her a sceptical look. "Yeah right, Carter. Sure y'are."

"I'm sorry, sir. It's just – " She waved her hand at him. "You look like a panda!"

Smirk. "Sir."

He pulled a face. "Gee thanks, Carter. Make a guy feel better, why don't'cha?"

"Have you tried washing it off?"

She closed her eyes at her own stupidity. Dumb question. Talk about setting herself up for a snarky remark…

"No Major, I've spend the last hour shaving."

Just like that one in fact. She held up her hands. "I only asked."

His shoulders slumped and he sagged down onto the bench, running his hand over his face and through his hair.

"Yeah, I know…damn stuff won't come off." He muttered, hanging his head. "Dunno what he used. Probably the Jaffa version of boot polish, or something…"

She studied him where he sat, head hanging down. He looked so dejected, she couldn't help but feel a small pang of sympathy for him. To be fair, he didn't deserve to have Teal'c's wrath taken out on him. This morning's joke was not his fault. Admittedly he'd been the initial one who wanted get revenge for being made to wander the SGC in his boxers, but the joke itself had been Daniel's idea and she was the one who'd made it work.

**_o0o_**

She dropped her towel on the bench and wandered over to her locker. Opening it up, she rummaged around until she found what she was searching for. Retrieving it, she walked back over to the bench and sat down next to him. He shot her a sideways look, as she lifted a leg and straddled the bench facing him.

"Turn round."

He frowned in puzzlement. "What?"

She waved a hand between them, indicating he mirror her sitting position. "Turn around."

"Why?"

_'Oh for…'_

"Please?"

He turned round, swinging a leg over the bench so he was sat astride it. He watched her carefully as she tore off a small piece of cotton wool and took the cap off the small bottle in front of her. The pungent smell drifted up to assault her nostrils as she placed the cotton wool over the bottle top and tipped it upside down.

Jack sniffed and wrinkled his nose. "Ugh! What is that?"

"Make-up remover."

"Smells like paint-stripper."

She chuckled. Wasn't so far from the truth! She used it to remove camouflage paint. Or days old mascara. The unpredictability of off-world missons could be a real bitch. She capped the bottle and placed it to one side. She lifted her hand towards his face and he pulled back.

"Uh…Carter?"

He suspiciously eyed the lotion-soaked cotton wool ball in her hand. "You sure it's not gonna take my skin off with it?"

"Absolutely, sir. I use it myself."

See? She could do patient.

"What the hell for?"

He was still frowning at the cotton wool, as if he couldn't imagine what use anyone could have for the stuff. Fine, so he was a man and had no use for it. But…he'd been married, hadn't he? Didn't he ever pay attention?

She shrugged. "Waterproof mascara, things like that."

He twitched an eyebrow. "Waterproof mascara, eh? Always wondered how you got it to stay on."

She blinked in shock. "You noticed?"

His lips twitched into a soft grin. "Sure I do, Carter."

Okay, so maybe he did occasionally pay attention. It was nice to know.

"That eye-paint Teal'c wears is a nice shade, don't'cha think?"

She couldn't help the peal of laughter that escaped. The thought of the Colonel complimenting Teal'c on his eyeshadow was just too damn funny. It was closely followed by an unbidden mental image of the Colonel in a skirt and pantyhose, applying makeup in front of a mirror.

_'Ugh!'_

She shuddered. Now that was not nice…she replaced it with the mental image of said Colonel in BDU pants and nothing else. Stripping down a P90. She smiled. Much better. She looked up to find the man in question looking at her expectantly.

_'Wha-?'_

Oh, he must want an answer.

"Yessir. It suits him."

The scary thing was that it really did.

He grinned. "Maybe you should compare tips."

She shook her head vigorously.

"No?"

"Noo! That would be just too…" she paused, trying to find a good word. She failed.

"…weird."

"Hey, you're not the one who walked in on him plucking his eyebrows!"

Oh great. Cue another mental image she soo didn't need. Sometimes she really did think too much.

**_o0o_**

Sam gently rubbed the skin around Jack's left eye with the cotton-wool. She'd finished cleaning his right. There were a still few faint streaks of black, but they should come off with a wash. Either way, it was still one heck of an improvement. Even if her fingertips were now stained black.

His eyelids trembled underneath her fingers and she smiled. It was almost mesmerising watching his skin appear from underneath the black covering. Plus the added bonus of having a legitimate reason to touch him like this…but she'd strung it out almost as long as she could. He was going to start fidgeting soon.

As if on cue, he raised his hand towards his eyes as if to touch and she absently knocked it away - not wanting her guilty pleasure interrupted just yet - before her actions registered. Surprisingly he didn't object, merely sighed and dropped his hand back into his lap. A few minutes later he raised his hand again.

She batted it away again. "Stop it!"

"My nose itches!"

Sam rolled her eyes, safe in the knowledge he couldn't see it, because his eyes were shut.

"I saw that."

She looked closely at him. His eyes were open ever so slightly in tiny slits.

"Close your eyes."

"Why?"

Argh! Why did he have to be so damn annoying?

"Because if this drips into them, it'll sting." She explained patiently.

"Ow!"

Sigh. "Kind of like that."

He yanked his head out of her reach and rubbed his eye, smearing black all around it once more. She reached for his arm and tugged it down.

"Let me see."

She reached forward and cupped his face between her hands, tilting his head slightly to the side as she peered intently into his eyes. He tried to pull back out of her grasp, but she held his head firmly, bringing it forward again.

"It's a bit bloodshot – "

He tried to tug his head from her grasp again and she tightened her grip slightly.

"But I think you're alright - "

"Carter!" He barked hoarsely.

She froze. The position they were both in, the way it would look like to anyone wallking in the door, registered on her brain for the first time. His face cupped in her hands, her lips inches from his own, close enough to feel his breath whispering over her mouth. The skin under her hands seemed to burn her fingers, his five o'clock shadow lightly scraping her fingertips as he swallowed convulsively. Their eyes locked and her stomach flipped at the look he was giving her. It was her turn to swallow hard.

_'Don't look, don't look…'_

Despite her best efforts, her eyes dropped downwards to gaze at his lips. The quiet groan her actions wrenched from him broke the spell and she flushed and yanked her hands back.

Pushing herself away, she sat back down heavily on the bench, putting a safe distance between them once again. She scrabbled around for the bottle and poured some more lotion onto a new piece of cotton-wool, trying to marshal her scattered thoughts. She cleared her throat and babbled, trying to bluff her way through it.

_'Please let it go, please let it go…'_

"It looks okay. But you should rinse it out with water once we've finished."

To her relief, he let it go. And settled for glaring at her instead. "You did that on purpose."

Must. Not. Kill. Commanding. Officer. Bad for career.

"No, I didn't. Now close your eyes."

He ignored her and lifted his arm. She grabbed it again. "Don't rub it! You'll make it worse."

_'Sheesh. You are not to think about how that sounds, Samantha!'_

He scowled. "But it hurts!"

"God, you are such a baby!"

It slipped out before she could stop it, still off-balance from what had almost happened. His jaw dropped and he stared at her, dumbfounded.

_'Oops.'_

"Sir." She added belatedly.

He just looked at her. She lifted the cotton-wool again. "Um, can you close your eyes again, sir?"

He continued to stare at her.

"Please, sir?" She asked meekly.

He sighed heavily and closed his eyes.

She saw his hand lift up again out of the corner of her eye. "Don't even think about it."

His hand stopped. "But my nose still itches."

Great. Now he was whining. This was soo the last time she did him a favour. Next time she'd let him wander around looking like a giant panda.

**_o0o_**


	9. Locker Room, 1615 Hours

**Locker Room, 1615 hours**

Sam lowered the scrap of cotton wool and shifted it to her left hand. Scrubbing the fingers of her right hand on the leg of her BDU's to dry them, she lifted her hand again and scratched his nose. He jumped, then relaxed as he realised her intentions. Sam bit back a grin.

_'Didn't see that one coming, did you?'_

And not just because his eyes were shut.

His skin was soft under her fingertips. The line of his nose smooth and straight, except for a small bump in the middle. She ran her fingers over it gently, wondering how it had gotten there.

"Broke it." He answered her unspoken question.

"How?"

"Floor, nose, nose, floor. Fist, nose, nose, fist. Gun-butt, nose, nose, gun-butt."

"Ouch."

"Yep."

"Mmm…" His appreciative murmur brought the grin that had been lurking on her face out in full force. Good to know her efforts were appreciated after all.

"Better?"

"Um-hmm." He nodded, his nose bumping slightly against her fingers with the movement.

She moved her hand away. The temptation to trace the outline of his face, trail her fingers along his skin and learn every inch of it by touch, was too much. His forehead wrinkled.

"Now what?"

"My eyebrow itches."

Of course it did.

She sighed and moved her hand. "Which one? This one?"

She poked the ever-present scar in his left eyebrow.

"Hey! Watch the weak spot!"

"Only one?" She teased.

"Physically."

There was no missing that implication and she tensed, grateful that his eyes were shut so he couldn't see.

"Oh." She said quietly, unsure of how to respond. This was what she'd always been afraid of, that their…feelings…would affect their actions.

He shook his head sharply, eyes still closed. "Sorry, forget I said that."

She swallowed hard. It was probably only meant as a joke anyway. "No, it's okay."

She reached out and placed her fingertip back on his face to show him that it was, really. He tensed for a second, then relaxed. It occurred to her then, that he wouldn't let just anyone do this. He was a man who didn't trust easily and but he was comfortable enough with her, to allow her to do this for him. The sense of satisfaction she felt at the knowledge was a heady rush.

She scratched his eyebrow gently. He moaned softly. "God, that feels good."

She bit her lip as thoughts rose unbidden of what it would be like to hear him say those words under different circumstances. Forcing the thoughts away, she gave in to temptation and ran her finger along his eyebrow towards his nose.

She shook her head slightly at her own hopelessness. All the physical attributes this man had, and she had a thing for his eyebrows. Pathetic really. And his eyelashes, of course. And his eyes. And…she'd better stop there.

The tiny hairs bristled as they were brushed the wrong way, before she slid her finger back across, smoothing the hairs into place. They were so soft…

"Carter, what are you doing?"

Her hand froze. Whoops. Caught. She focused on his face again. He had his other eye open and was squinting at her.

She flushed and lowered her hand. "Um…nothing?"

Maybe he'd let this go?

"Carter?"

Maybe not.

"Uh, sorry. It's just…uh…you'vegotveryniceeyebrows. Sir."

He blinked. "You like my eyebrows?!"

"Uh yes."

Amongst other things.

He shook his head. "You know, sometimes you worry me, Carter."

Nothing new there. Sometimes she worried herself.

**_o0o_**

She picked up the cotton-wool and began wiping his eyes again. This time he closed his eyes without being told. You couldn't say he wasn't a quick learner. His eyelashes tickled her palm as she worked. So unfair. She would kill to have such gorgeous lashes…but they really did suit him. Damn him.

"Soo…" he began conversationally, after a minute. "What else do you like?"

Sam burst out laughing. "Oh, we are soo not doing this!"

"Doing what?"

That innocent expression was not going to work on her this time. Eyes closed or not.

"You know what, sir."

He shrugged. "Can't blame a gal for trying."

She snorted. "If you say so, sir."

He grinned. "You don't agree?"

She ignored him. She was not going to let him wind her up with the feminist thing again. That was old, it didn't bother her any longer.

"There, all done."

She dropped the used cotton-wool on the bench and cocked her head on one side. Definite improvement.

His eyes popped open. "Well?"

Unable to resist, she reached out and poked him gently on the nose. His eyes crossed trying to follow the path of her finger. She smiled. "Much better."

A slow smile appeared on his lips. "Thanks."

The look in his eyes, a mix of something she dare not name and resigned acceptance, made her heart squeeze painfully. She knew it was mirrored in her own. Looking away, she stood up and he followed suit.

"You should go wash your face."

He nodded. "Yeah…listen…I owe you one. What say we go grab lunch?"

She hesitated. "I was going to shower…"

"You're not gonna have time to shower before the debriefing. Not if you want to eat as well."

She glanced at her watch. 1630?! It had taken that long? Oi…

Her stomach rumbled. That clinched it. Food. Debriefing. Nice long soak in the bath at home.

"Lunch it is, sir."

"Sweet."**__**

He took his towel and wandered off to the sink area. "Oh and Carter?"

She spun round from putting everything back in her locker. "Yessir?"

His gaze lazily trailed her body from tip to toe, before drifting back up again to meet her eyes.

"I like your…eyebrows…as well."

_'Smart-ass.'_

**_o0o_**


	10. Teal’c’s Quarters, 1630 Hours

**Teal'c's Quarters, 1630 Hours**

Teal'c lifted himself from his cross-legged position on the floor and stood smoothly, his session of Kel'no'reem leaving him feeling much refreshed. It had been an eventful day, but once again he had prevailed in this yearly test of wits. Dr. Frasier had been most appreciative of the chocolate cake he had procured for her. The commissary staff less so, however he had easily overridden their feeble protests. It was not his concern if this was the last chocolate cake – indeed the last cake of any kind - left on the base. It was no less a reward than Dr. Frasier deserved, for her efforts in helping him gain retribution.

Taking a breath he blew gently, extinguishing the first of many candles. Turning to the next candle in line, a flicker of brightness caught his attention. Turning back, his eyes widened in astonishment. The candle he had blown out mere seconds before, had mysteriously re-lit itself. Frowning, he blew it out again.

After a few seconds, it popped back into life again. This was not normal behaviour. He blew harder, spattering wax across the wooden surface on which the candle-holder stood. The flame went out…then came back. Teal'c took a deep breath and blew it out as vigorously as he could, sustaining the breath for as long as possible. The flame didn't stand a chance against such an attack and was immediately snuffed out. Eventually Teal'c ran out of air and had to breathe in.

The flame popped back into existence. Teal'c growled in frustration. Then blew once more.

**_o0o_**


	11. Locker Room Corridor, 1640 Hours

**Locker Room Corridor, 1640 Hours**

"So, what did you do to Teal'c, sir?"

Jack shrugged as he led the way out of the locker room.

"Ya know what they say, Carter," he said, pushing open the door and waving her through, before falling into step beside her as they walked down the corridor.

"He who laughs last, laughs longest."

She turned to him, mouth open to ask exactly what he meant, when an enraged bellow reached their ears.

"O'Neill!!"

Sam quirked an eyebrow. Jack just smiled.

"So…cake?"

She smiled in response. "Indeed."

Jack smirked. "Funny."

He stuck his hands in his pockets as they continued on their way.

"I fancy chocolate, how about you?"

"Chocolate sounds good…"

**_End_**

****

**More Author's Notes: **These are all actual practical jokes that I have seen played on people. Of course I've never been involved with any of them because I'm a good little girl ;) Yeah, right! I thought about including the one with the duct tape diaper, but figured there was no way I could fit that one into a PG13 rated story ;)

Anyhoo, that's all she wrote! Would love to know whatcha thunk...


End file.
